The Waiting Game
by sarcasticdaisy
Summary: Kurt is at the center of a murder investigation. Scared and thought to be in danger, he is assigned protective custody. But under Agent Puckerman and Hudson's close supervision, not everything is as it seems and danger is lurking just around the corner...
1. Part One

_This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. __Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!_

**The Waiting Game **/ Part One

Kurt, the stylish twenty-something cashier with his modish dark hair, glasses, soft smile, and shy, geek chic vibe, taps his timecard, sets the silent alarm, and locks up the Coffee Bean before walking home.

With his apron slung over one arm and half a cup of lukewarm latté in hand, he makes his way through downtown Los Angeles two blocks before he feels a presence. Hears their footsteps trailing behind, nearly mimicking his own.

And though its not an unfamiliar feeling, someone always watching, always just a step behind, the prospect does nothing to quell his insecurities, and he slides his hand down to his pocket. Cautious, he carefully fingers the pocketknife his father gave him when he first moved to LA. The cool metal being only a slight reassurance, Kurt stops mid-stroll to power walk the rest of the way home.

Without looking back, another block, with more heavy footfalls and fear-inducing panic, Kurt makes it to his building in one piece.

The feeling of someones eyes still lingers, burning holes and etching impressions deep into his flesh. He jogs up the small flight of stairs into the safety of his apartment where he locks the deadbolt, hangs up his apron, and takes a deep, ragged breath before dispensing whats left of his now icy latté. Then he flips on the TV to drown out the sounds of his obnoxious neighbors, Joe and Shelly's, latest squabble.

Its a typical night for Kurt.

He eats a bag of skittles, flips aimlessly through the channels, reads for a while and falls asleep around one-thirty with his glasses resting tight against the bridge of his nose and the cheap mystery novel laying forgotten in his lap.

The TV hums, volume low on an infomercial advertisement for the magic bullet. The book falls and the glint of binoculars shimmer out from a window across the street as someone watches, waiting for the right moment.

But they all go unnoticed as Kurt dreams - the sound of boots falling, a shadow in the midst, growing closer.

He can feel warm breath brush the back of his neck, muscular arms encircling his waist as hes enveloped in tight heat, so close, suffocating-

It hurts to breathe.

And the next morning when Kurt wakes, his pillow is soaked through with sweat and his glasses are resting on the end table.

The book he'd been reading is nowhere to be found.

:::

It goes on for three days, the feeling of someones eyes, the sound of footsteps, personal items disappearing

So on the fourth day, as he's finishing counting out the register, Kurt bums a ride off Dave, one of the other Coffee Bean employees who's been working at the shop for a little over three months now.

On the ride to his apartment building, they make the usual small talk, music, the weather, attractive regulars and then Dave starts telling a dirty joke, so dirty it makes Kurts cheeks flush and ears burn. It distracts him and he doesn't realize that they're pulling into the alley just behind his apartment building rather then claiming one of the many free spaces in the parking lot out front.

Looking around, he asks, "What are we doing?" confusion evident as he realizes where he is. He looks to Dave for answers, panic rising as he tugs on his seatbelt.

He thought he could trust Dave - he liked the green eyed boy. And he honestly thought things would be okay. Whenever Kurt is feeling down at work, Dave always makes a joke and doesnt let up until he's sure that he has lightened Kurt's mood. Hes supposed to be his friend but nothing about this situation feels friendly.

Hands fumble, the seatbelt appears to be stuck, and when Kurt reaches for the door handle and it wont open, he hisses, "This isn't funny, Dave."

But Dave seems to think it is.

He places a hand on Kurts upper thigh and begins to rub, ignoring Kurt as he voices his discomfort and grabs the offending hand, trying to push it away. Kurt lets out a small girlish squeak as Dave latches onto to it...

Adding pressure, his nails dig in as he forces Kurt's hand beneath his own and continues to molest.

A second later, Dave rasps, "So fucking hot," with a disheartening, pedophile-in-a-playground sort of glee that makes Kurt shiver, right before he leans in for a kiss.

Breath thick with espresso, Kurt turns his head away, and lips and teeth crash into his jaw before Dave pulls back.

Glaring, "Goddamit" echoes within the vehicle, causing Kurt to flinch, and he tries yanking on his seatbelt again.

He manages to get it unlocked, but just as it snaps back, a fist flies out of nowhere.

Hard and solid, it connects.

There's a flash of black and a momentary deafening as Kurt's head hits the window hard.

The world tilts.

He tries to blink away the blur, begs - "Dave, dont- please" - can feel blood sliding down his cheek from where his glasses cut into the skin just below his eye. The thought makes Kurts stomach lurch violently, and he begs "Jus-just let me out of the car," suddenly feeling far away, like peering through cellophane. There's thunder in his ears.

"You're such a fucking bitch, Kurt."

Kurt tries to push away the other mans hands, manages to hit Dave in the shoulder, but with his head still spinning, it comes on weak and pathetic.

He takes a deep breath, his hands fumble and push, but its no use.

Its been almost five years, since

This can't be happening again.

Body blanketed, heavy weight as his seat is reclined, helpless as Dave crawls on top of him.

"Dont worry, God-" He breathes, "I'll make it feel so good."

Kurt pushes, splaying his palms and beating his fists but the angle is all wrong and his wrists feel like theyre gonna snap under the pressure. Pinned within seconds, glasses ripped from his face; that mouth descends-

Bruising and biting. He's ravenous, and Kurt can taste the copper tang, can feel the thick crimson sliding slimily down his throat as Dave devours him.

Hovering above, Daves grinding his hips while fiddling with the button on Kurts jeans and easing his zipper down-

Down

Before a hand is reaching in, grabbing a hold of him as that mouth takes. Tongue forcing its way in, raping, plunging and sucking and Kurt can barely breathe. Low keening sounds, muffled as he screams into the other mans mouth.

His hearts pounding wildly, head throbbing, dizzy, so dizzy, as blackness is tinting the edge of his vision. Hes on the verge of passing out-

So close,

Then a miracle happens.

The hold on his wrists, the hand down his pants, the suffocating mouth, theyre all ripped away, and the seatbelt still tangled up on one arm is the only thing keeping Kurt from being pulled along with them.

He hears, "what the fuck" as Dave is dragged away from the vehicle. And he vaguely registers a large man, with big mitts for hands who is hiding within an oversized hoodie, throwing Dave down, kicking him in the stomach and then the groin. It takes a moment for Kurt to process what is happening, and when he does, he manages to get out of the car and stop the guy just before the heel of his Converse slams down on Dave's neck.

Terrified,

With one hand on the guys shoulder, the big frame turns, fist ready, but then it drops and the strangers hands are all over him, tipping up his chin and assessing the damage.

"Are you okay?" he breathes, voice rough, breath like an ashtray.

Kurt blinks, looking back down to Dave before trying to focus on the stranger. "How'd you-" He feels dizzy, confused. And the question dies upon his lips.

Those big hands grab a hold of him, keep him from falling, and Kurt tries to stay awake. Feeling blood drooling down into his ear, he reaches up to wipe it away. The motion feels foreign, oddly detached as he catches the strangers eyes.

They're so intense, filled with anger, worry, rage, and something else.

Something Kurt doesnt want to think about, something that reminds him way too much of Dave, and the look he had in his eyes just a few minutes ago.

_Dave_.

Kurts first instinct is to kneel down and make sure the assholes okay, doesnt need medical attention, but then hes grabbed by the wrist and an arm encircles his waist. Before he can make an effort, the stranger is dragging him away-

Dragged through the alley, into his apartment building, and up the stairs. Kurt wonders briefly how this guy knows just where he lives, but then they're at his apartment and the stranger is waiting expectantly.

Still holding him tight.

Kurt blinks, trying to clear the fog, a bad feeling welling within his gut as he hands over his keys and allows the man to pull him in - practically carry him into the bedroom - and lie him down.

The comforter is cool against his skin. Soft and fluffy, it envelopes him, and yet again, he fights the urge to close his heavy lids.

He knows something isnt right, stares up at the dark ceiling in his room, and moans as his bedside lamp is turned on-

Too bright.

It hurts his eyes and Kurt tries to turn away from it, but then theres something cool and wet blanketing his face while a hand combs gently through his hair.

Comforting.

"Youre okay." The voice is softer now. Different somehow, and Kurt reaches up to remove the hand towel, pushes it up onto his forehead against the wound and stares up, unfocused.

"Just try to relax," the man murmurs, moving his hand and shedding off his hoodie. "My name is Tosh. Im a good guy, I promise. Im not going to hurt you." He bites down on the bottom corner of his lip, and then barely a whisper sounds as his mouth moves again, "I can't hurt you."

He kicks off his shoes before removing Kurt's slowly, untangling the laces, then pulling them off. He sets them down next to his own and crawls into bed beside Kurt, spooning him close and shushing the half-moaned protests.

Kurt has tears in his eyes. They slide down his cheeks and mingle with the drops of blood and water from the wet washcloth. Fragile and afraid, he doesnt want to be touched, doesn't like the feeling of Tosh's arms wrapped around his waist. It makes him feel helpless, small, and he doesn't like the feel of complete strangers body forced up against his own. He has always been a magnet for this sort of unwanted attention.

"Please," he finally chokes out, but the arms dont let go, gripping him tighter instead. He tries to think, to remember what the stranger had said, and after a few moments, he remembers. "Tosh? Please let go, youre hurting me." Kurt grunts as if to emphasize his point and that's all it takes. The pressure is gone and he can feel the shift in weight.

"I'm not leaving, not until I know youre okay. If I wouldnt of" he trails off and Kurt turns to face him. Instantly regretting the motion as his zipper digs into his lower abdomen, his pants still undone. Evidence of Dave. The small pain seems to clear his mind a little and he finally feels like he might be able to focus better.

Then, "I've been watching you," Tosh confesses, "for almost two months" and fear seeps back into Kurts bones.

Taking a deep breath, trying to mask his fear.

Tosh continues, "I saw you one night in the coffee shop." He smiles fondly. "It was late and you were closing, and I just couldn't look away. Stayed outside watching you for a good hour but then you were leaving and I didnt want to stop. So I followed you home. It felt like the right thing to do. Like fate, like I was meant to find you..."

Kurt frowns, instincts screaming for him to run. Get away.

"And I guess I've just been keeping an eye on you every night since."

Tossing the washcloth on the nightstand, Kurt rubs his hand over his swollen face, "Why didnt you just come into the store?" he asks, trying to make sense of whats happening, to figure out if this man is really dangerous.

Tosh looks uncomfortable for a moment, forehead wrinkling, before whispering, "I guess I just didnt think that youd be all that interested. I know you kinda keep to yourself. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable but I didnt want to stop seeing you either." Kurt nods, and pushes his head up against Toshs shoulder.

No longer weary of threat-

Kurt says, "Thank you."

Head pounding, feeling light, he curls in.

Somehow, Tosh's words gave him comfort rather than fear. And it may just be the waning of a traumatic event, but for whatever reason, he feels safer now with Tosh than he has with anyone in a very long time.

:::

Kurts alarm sounds, bright red letters flashing six oclock and Kurt fumbles with it for a moment before pushing his legs off the side of the bed. Wincing as he feels the effects of the previous night, his head feels too heavy, hurts, and he tries to blink the sleep from his eyes.

His glasses aren't on the nightstand when he reaches for them and he realizes theyre probably still in Daves SUV.

Making his way to the bathroom, avoiding the mirror, Kurt takes care of his morning duties: bladder, teeth- He grabs his facial soap and is about to wash his face when he remembers Tosh.

Glancing into the mirror, his heart breaks.

Not one but two black eyes, puffy and a grotesque purplish-black, the bruising doesnt stop there. His left cheek looks like a rotting pear, yellowish-brown and turning fast.

Kurt's stomach turns with it and he vomits the entire contents of his stomach into the porcelain sink. Feeling a burn in his eyes, along with brutal pounding in his head, he spends the next ten minutes dry heaving and wishing he were dead.

_Ive been watching you._

A shiver runs up his spine as he walks out into the living room. Its empty and there's no sign that Tosh was ever there.

He calls work. Voice hoarse, he explains that he cant come in and catches hell from Rachel - apparently Daves MIA and didn't bother opening this morning. The Coffee Bean is two employees short and Rachel, as sweet as she usually is, has now become a vile dragon lady -

In too much pain, unable to handle her bitching, Kurt hangs up.

Possibly out of a job? He doesn't really want to think about it. Kurt swallows down a glass of water with three aspirin and crawls back into bed.

Hes asleep within seconds.

:::

Hours later, the numbers on his alarm clock blur together. Still tired, turning to get more comfortable, Kurt realizes, much to his horror, that theres another body in his bed, a large lump beside him that wasnt there before, along with a sticky wetness soaking through his comforter and cooling messily against his hip and thigh.

"What the-"

Kurt crawls out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he sees the blood covering his lower half and Dave lying in his bed - throat slit, chest peppered with multiple stab wounds, a bloody, horrific mess.

"Tosh," Kurt mouths, voice too weak to make any noise. His knees hit the ground, hands shaky, and eyes wide.

He sits there for hours.

The sun growing dim as the day wears on, theres but a soft glow filtering in through the curtain.

Still in shock-

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice is telling Kurt to get up, to call the police, wash the blood off and get it together, but he can't.

An hour later, they show up on their own. How or why, hes not sure. He still hasnt moved. Cant move. They approach him slowly

A light is flashed in his eyes as a medic asks him questions that he cannot bring himself to answer. Nothing feels real. His throat's too dry, his thoughts are too muddled, but they're here and they're taking him away from the room which is a relief.

Safe, outside his apartment, Kurt can finally breathe.

:::

They keep him overnight at St. Agnes hospital. The little blonde nurse named April fusses over him, all smiles and soft words. She's the cutest thing hes ever seen. She gets him a new pair of glasses and if it were any other time and if he were slightly lower on the Kinsey scale, he may have asked her out.

But he's not and he can't.

Mid-afternoon comes fast and a tall man wearing a dark suit and a sharp tie introduces himself as "Officer Hudson," then extends his hand with an overly-friendly smile and asks, "Mr. Hummel, right?"

Kurt nods, shakes Hudson's hand, and the man continues, "Well, I know this isnt exactly the best time but Im going to need to get a statement from you."

When he doesnt answer right away, the man clears his throat and shifts uneasily. "Right, well, why dont you just start by telling me what happened to your" The officer motions to his face and Kurt's jaw twitches.

"This guy, he said his name was Tosh. He-He's been following me home from work. I usually walk, and I was kinda worried, so I bummed a ride off of Dave, and he-" deep breath, "he attacked me." He pauses, brow knitted as a small frown plays upon his lips. "I think Tosh killed him."

"Who's Tosh? Friend, ex-boyfriend?"

"No." Kurt shakes his head. "I don't know him. I just, look- He pulled Dave from the car and just started beating on him. I managed to stop him before- but I was out of it and he brought me home. He already knew where I lived," Kurt sighs. "He told me his name and said that hed been watching me. Then I passed out and he was gone."

Officer Hudson jots the information down before looking up and asking, "Is that the last time you saw him?"

"Yeah."

"So how did Dave Karofsky end up in your bed?"

"I dont know," Kurt says his voice shaky, rushed. "I called in sick to work, popped a few aspirins and went back to bed. When I woke up again, there was blood everywhere and there was Dave laying there like some kind of macabre gift. I know I shouldve called the police but I- I just, I couldn't." Kurt leans back, feeling the familiar sting in his eyes. He wipes them with the back of his hand before looking back to the officer. "I mean, Dave, he- but he didn't deserve..."

"So you werent planning on pressing charges?"

Kurt shakes his head "no."

"This isnt the first time something like this has happened. When I was living in Ohio, I was- I pressed charges and Im not- I cant ever go through that again."

"If I brought in a sketch artist do you think you could at least describe this guy, Tosh?"

Kurts frown deepens and he looks down at the IV in his hand. He cant remember. He hates that he cant remember.

With a put-out sigh, "This is probably going to sound so horrible but I dont really, I mean, I'm like Stevie Wonder without my glasses. I mean I can see a little but its more shapes then anything, I really couldnt make out his face. He was tall though, like you and he had like a medium build and brown eyes, I think God, Im so sorry. I just, I didn't think I can be much help."

"I understand. Thank you Mr. Hummel. I'll let you get some sleep."

He moves to the door, and then stops. "I or another officer may be back to ask you more questions so well need you to stay in town."

"I'll be here or at-" His forehead wrinkles. "I cant go back to my apartment, can I?"

"Not until the investigations wrapped, no. I'll talk to my superior about setting you up in a hotel and get you some security just in case Tosh decides to contact you again."

"I'm not a suspect, am I?"

"At this time, no."

"Thank you."

Officer Hudson nods. "Get some sleep, okay?" And Kurt watches him leave the room, takes a deep breath and embraces the innate healing powers of the morphine drip, the machine working more alkaloid into his system.

Kurt's eyes flutter closed.

Feeling a vague sense of familiarity, he falls into a dreamless sleep.

:::

The next day, by late afternoon, Officer Hudson and another, an Agent Puckerman, come to check him out from the hospital.

It only takes Kurt a second after introductions to decide that he does'nt like Agent Puckerman - a man who's eye contact is a little too intense when speaking, has terrible posture, ridiculous short hair, a tailored suit that looks like it was put through the dryer one too many times, and fidgety hands -

So not by the book.

It makes Kurt sigh.

This is the man hes going to be stuck with for an undisclosed amount of time. Not that hed been hoping for much, but he'd thought that maybe he could've at least made a new friend, something?

Kurt almost wishes theyd assigned a female officer.

Taking a deep breath, Puckerman asks, "You ready?"

And Kurt nods standing up as straight as he can. He brushes off his sweater and pushes his glasses up higher on his nose. He isnt quite sure why but he feels like he should be putting on an act. Like if he can convince people now that hes doing okay, then by the time he goes home, he really will be.

Officer Hudson touches his arm, squeezing gently; Kurt feels an odd pang in his gut and quickly looks away, listening as the two officers go over the usual protocol and safety precautions with him.

Kurt tries but barely hears most of what is being said, tired and achy; he just can't bring himself to care.

They say goodbye to Officer Hudson and Kurt stares at the pink lipstick stain on the back of Puckerman's collar the entire walk to the car, too preoccupied to notice the eyes following them, watching their every move as they get buckled in before driving away from the hospital.


	2. Part Two

__

This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!

**The Waiting Game** / Part Two

Kurt opens his mouth before closing it, licking his lips and fussing with his hair. Nervous. His attention turns towards the window, a sadness washing over him when he realizes this is definitely something more then the local police are letting on.

Protective custody, a motel, somehow hes managed to get himself stuck in one seriously sticky web, and for whatever reason, hes being kept in the dark about everything.

It makes him really uncomfortable.

The minute he entered the car, Agent Puckerman had turned up the radio and has not said a word to him since.

It is a long, awkward ride and Kurt closes his eyes and listens to the music in an attempt to keep his shaky breathing and frazzled nerves under control.

The motel is twenty minutes out of town and they park around back before ascending the stairs. Kurt goes up first, listening to the echoing footfalls. His heart pounding, palms sweating, he resists the urge to run -

The knot in his stomach balling tighter. Once inside, after searching the room, Puck asks, "What would you like to order? and Kurt starts.

Dragging his attention away from the tacky bronze carpet, he shrugs. "Whatever is fine," he replies before looking away again.

It doesnt matter; Kurts fairly sure he cannot stomach anything anyway. Putting down his bag, out of the corner of his eye he notices the officer reaching for his phone.

The stony expression on his face as he turns away, before stepping out of the room - Which houses two queen beds, a main living area with a couch, TV, and small kitchenette to the side - Its pretty extravagant for this sort of situation albeit tawdry, but then again, Kurt can safely assume that this is not a normal babysitting job.

Tosh is obviously far more dangerous then the police are letting on, and Puckerman, even though he is oh, so callous, Kurt has to wonder if he is always like this or if it is merely the job.

Listening, he can hear faint talking outside and Kurt shrugs. Choosing the bed farthest from the door, he lies down and turns towards the wall. Staring at dirty smudged fingerprints and dusty white wall, he quickly falls asleep.

The knot in his stomach slowly uncoils.

:::

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Kurts eyes snap open, instantly alert, he rolls over; the smell of pizza warms his belly. In his sleep-addled state, Kurt could swear that Puckerman is smiling at him. Or is he smiling at the delivery boy - Kurt isnt sure. However, a moment later the door clicks shut and Puckerman is staring at him again, holding the box out like some sort of peace offering.

"You need to eat," he says, and Kurt shakes his head, rolling back over. His bed suddenly dips, and the smell of meat sauce and pineapple is damn near impossible to resist.

"Look, Kurt. I know youre probably not hungry after everything youve been through, but you really need to keep your strength up." Cardboard slides open, tempting. "I cant very well protect you if youre not even going to bother to take care of yourself. Come on, just one piece and Ill leave you alone. Promise."

Puckerman sounds genuinely concerned and Kurt nods. Maybe the guy isnt as self-involved as he original thought.

Sitting up he takes the offered paper plate before digging into the box, but then hesitates, his fingers hovering. "If I eat this will you tell me the truth about whats going on? Im not a child, I can take it. Please- I know theres something you guys arent telling me- if you start talking, Ill eat."

Puckerman frowns and sets the pizza down on the bed. "Kurt, I really dont think-" He rubs a hand over his mouth, and then claims, "Im sorry, but Im not at liberty to divulge that information."

Narrowing his eyes, Kurts face is aching, and he flexes his jaw. Shaking his head, Puckermans eyes are a brilliant mix of gray, green and brown and Kurt stares into them for a moment; he can read the lie. He turns his nose up at the food and lies back down on the bed.

Waiting, a flash of irritation gleams in the officers eyes and its pretty clear the moment Kurt has won.

Puckerman blusters, "Fine, if you eat two pieces, Ill tell you."

Kurts stomach flips but he ignores it. Nodding in agreement, he sits back up on the bed, crosses his legs and takes two slices from the box before siding the lid closed. He stares at the large, warm, cheesy pieces and swallows hard.

Almost choking on the first bite, Kurt manages to get both pieces down and keep them down without too much effort. Then flushes in embarrassment when a loud burp escapes past his lips -

He grins shyly up at Puckerman, whose surprised expression is nothing short of adorable.

But then Puck smiles back at him, and Kurt looks away.

His eyes dart around the room, growing impatient. After a few minutes waiting for Puckerman to open up, he finally settles his attention on the officer.

The television hums low in the background and Puckerman, sitting at the small table, licks the pizza sauce from his thumb before grabbing a napkin, and taking a sip off his cola.

"Youre not going to like this," he says tiredly, and Kurt tenses but does not argue. "There have been five others, all fitting the same profile. Slight, dark hair, ashen skin, delicate features - young men between seventeen and twenty-four, all attractive young males, like yourself"

Puckerman licks his lips, turning away for a few seconds before meeting Kurts eyes.

"Look, forensics found traces of DNA in your apartment. It could take a few days but they are working on identifying it. Its just a matter of time before we apprehend the bastard and you can go home."

Kurt frowns, he needs to know more.

"What happened to the others?" he presses, and Puckerman sighs. Tossing the balled up paper towel in his hand onto the empty plate. He straightens in his seat and Kurt notices that Pucks foot is tapping restlessly against the carpet and that he looks genuinely uncomfortable discussing this.

"All five young men were attacked in their homes," he pauses, "they were found lying face down in their beds with their wrists cuffed. They were raped repeatedly, not only with but a knife also," he shakes his head, paling; the light scruff on his face stands out stark in the poor hotel lighting.

"How can you be so sure that this is the same guy?" Kurt questions, horrified.

Puck stands. "Each victim was discovered by way of an anonymous call. The voice matches. Were not exactly sure why he broke pattern but-" Puckerman pulls back the curtain and peeks outside, "each victim was stabbed twenty-three times."

"Dave, he was?"

"Yeah."

Kurt considers, and then asks, "How much time was there between victims?"

Puckerman drops the curtain, and sits down on the empty bed, "Two- two and a half months," he says, and Kurts heart stutters.

"Ive been watching you," Tosh confessed, "for almost two months."

Biting his lower lip, Kurt does not ask any more questions. He can see Toshs eyes, feel his touch, and he shivers.

"Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Of course, I wasnt really sure what to grab of yours so I just filled the bag with a few things. I can go back to your apartment tomorrow though, I mean, if theres anything else you need."

"Thank you." Kurt says appreciatively, and Puckerman nods, watching Kurt dig into his duffle bag.

A few minute later, Kurt is stepping beneath the warm shower spray, his chest heaving. He spends twenty minutes trying to scrub the dried blood and Daves fingerprints from his body.

The water runs cold.

:::

Kurt cannot stop thinking about the other victims and what more could have happened to him, what the monster could have done and what hes already done

He cannot sleep.

Agent Puckerman is sitting on the other bed, reading through a file. Every few minutes, Kurt hears the shift of papers. He eventually rolls over to watch. Kurts vision is a little blurry, but he does not want to disturb the other man by reaching out for his glasses.

Puckerman has lost the suit jacket and tie; his dress shirt is unbuttoned a little and his hair is ever so slightly messed. He is chewing on the end of a pen, and his eyes are deeply focused on whatever he is reading.

Kurt cant help but notice he is a very attractive man, which he thinks could be the reason the Agent comes off so rough and unapproachable.

He is handsome, and in his line of work, his looks are probably a cause for problem. The same or similar to, what an attractive female Agent has to endure. Kurt is curious as to why someone who looks like Puck does would become a cop. He considers asking, but then decides against it.

Its none of his business.

With a sigh, Puckerman sets down the paper and shoves all of the pages back into the folder. Then, glancing at his watch, he says, "Agent Hudson, Finn, will be here in a few hours to take over; he comes on a little strong sometimes, but hes a good officer. Hell take care of you"

He leans over the bed and stuffs the folder into his duffle bag.

"Ill be back at six to take over. Do you want me to bring you anything? I know this isnt exactly fun having to spend all of your time stuck in a motel room, so, if you want a DVD player, some movies, an x-box, even just a little something to snack on, let me know. Ill get it for you, okay?"

Kurt yawns. "Thats really thoughtful, thanks Puckerman."

"Call me Puck," he says.

Kurt nods, and continues, "All of those things sound pretty good, but I thought I was going to get to go home soon."

Puck sighs, "We need to make sure that you are completely safe before letting you on your own. You can understand that, right?"

"Yeah," Kurt breathes, hugging his pillow close.

Puck smirks and picks up the remote. With one brow arched, "You wanna watch Craig Ferguson?" he asks, and Kurt nods his head, already half-asleep.

He mumbles, "Sure," and a few minutes later, before the end of the musical introduction, he falls asleep.

His moist lips softly parted, bright hazelish eyes admire the slow rise and fall of his chest as he dreams.

:::

Kurt feels a hand caress his cheek that he tries to shy away from. Pushing his head back into the pillow, he is half-asleep and so tired, but slowly, his eyes flutter open.

Brown eyes are staring into his and Kurt scuttles back on the bed. Blinking to clear his eyes, he licks his dry lips and scoots back even more. His back hits the wall and he winces. Watching wearily as the brown-eyed man moves closer

"No," Kurt moans, shaking his head. "Where- wheres Puck?"

Holding up his hands, the man says, "Agent Puckermans shift ended at six. Im Finn- Finn Hudson, Kurt; you remember we met at the hospital."

Kurt takes a deep steadying breath. He can still feel a tingle against his cheek where the warmth of a hand rested, and he nods but does not move.

"My glasses," he requests. The second Finn hands them over, Kurt slides them over the bridge of his nose and peers up at the officer; he is unable to shake the feeling that something isnt right.

Is that better? You good now?

Kurt yawns, and then starts to apologize for his behavior. Even though there is a niggling feeling in the back of his mind telling him to keep his guard up.

"Dont even worry about it. Youre under a lot of stress, Kurt. Its completely understandable. Im sorry I startled you. I just, I brought you an icepack and some clothes. Theres some coffee if you want some.

"That, that would be good, thanks." Kurt says, moving his neck from one side to the other and stretching his arms up and out high above his head.

Finn nods and smiles softly.

He is halfway to the kitchenette before Kurt moves, shoving all four pillows behind his back. He really needs to use the restroom, but his heart is still beating fast and he doesnt want to leave the bed.

"Theres some doughnuts and muffins too, if youre hungry."

"I, yeah..."

Kurt crosses the room to the bathroom quickly. Staring down, there is no lock on the door and he frowns, pushing it shut. He catches his disheveled reflection in the mirror and realizes then that he is wearing only an undershirt and briefs.

He goes about his morning ritual, and as he is washing his face with the cheap motel soap, Kurt can feel tears burning at his eyes. He forces them back when there is a knock on the door.

"You okay?" Finn asks, and Kurt shakes his head no, wiping his face off with a hand towel. "Kurt?" Kurt does not answer, and a heavy tear slips past one eye as Finn pushes open the door.

Kurt takes a step back, biting his lower lip as the Agent looks him over. There is something in his eyes, something like hunger or want, and Kurt wraps his arms around himself. He can feel more tears dampening his cheeks, and his skin is hot, almost feverish.

Finally, after an excruciatingly uncomfortable moment, he says, "Im sorry, you didnt say anything and I thought I got you a cup of coffee, here." Finn hands over a mug that Kurt hadnt realized he had been holding and leaves the room.

The door is still cracked partially open, and Kurt sniffs the contents of the cup. The coffee smells okay, like cream and sugar, and Kurt takes a small sip. Licking his lips, there is a slightly bitter aftertaste beneath the syrupy sweet, and Kurt cautiously pours the rest of the coffee down the drain.

Hes probably just being paranoid, he thinks. Finn seems like a nice person, but there is just something off about the whole situation. After what Puck told him - now that he knows what kind of man is after him - Kurt is not going to be able to relax until he knows for sure that he is safe.

For some reason, Kurt does not feel safe with Finn.

Not like he does with Puck.


	3. Part Three

__

This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!

**The Waiting Game** / Part Three

The rest of the day doesnt get any less awkward. Finn spends hours trying to get him to talk, from the weather to sports to questions about his personal life, and Kurt tries to make small talk, he really does, but after a while he starts to get tired and he lies back down on the bed.

Finn leaves him alone after that, flipping through the channels rather than continuing their idle conversation. Kurt can feel Finn watching him, searching him out every few minutes from the corner of his eye, and it makes him really nervous. He has to grit his teeth to keep from snapping or saying something rude. Something he might later regret.

Puck shows up a little before six, and Kurt breathes easier.

"I think were set," he smiles, and Kurt can feel his whole face light up when he sees the bags at Pucks side -

Shirt partially untucked; it looks like Puck has just rolled out of bed. He looks good though and his eyes are bright and happy, and all of his attention is on Kurt.

Kurt reaches out to grab one of the bags and Puck thanks him. "God, these are heavy," he notes, sighing exasperatedly.

He sets the other two bags down on the bed next to Finn, who is looking back and forth between them, confused. "What is all this," he asks, motioning with one hand and Puck laughs.

"Some DVDs, a player, an x-box, games and enough Skittles and junk food to last us a week. He shrugs, I may have gone a little overboard."

Kurt grabs a bag of Skittles. He doesn't much feel like eating anything but he needs the distraction.

"A little?" Finn smiles, but his hands are clinched tightly at his sides. His shoulders are tense and his jaw is twitching, as if he is trying to hold something back, almost like it is physically painful for him to keep the smile plastered on his face.

Kurt watches him for a minute, trying to figure him out. Perplexed. The Agent looks and acts friendly enough, but there are so many little things about him that make Kurt want to crawl out of his skin.

Puck looks immune to the officers odd behavior, and as they both search through the bags, Kurt watches the way their hands brush and neither man moves away.

"Can I talk to you outside?" Finn asks with an edge to his voice and Kurt shifts uncomfortably.

Puck follows Finn silently, and Kurt listens to them argue for a few minutes before they both come back in.

Is everything okay?

Puck doesnt look too happy, but he smiles reassuringly, and Finn leaves a little while later.

"Ill see you in the morning..." he says before he goes.

Kurt is sitting on the bed, munching on his bag of Skittles and looking through the movies. He doesnt look up when the door clicks shut or when the bed dips and Puck sits down next to him.

"He really is a good guy if you give him a chance."

Kurt nods. He doesnt admit that he has been going crazy all day waiting for Puck to come back or that he felt like going off every time Finn just looked at him, spoke to him, or even breathed near him.

The other Agent is Pucks friend and thats okay, but right now, Kurt really wishes he werent. It would make it so much easier for him to explain why he hadnt acknowledged the mans departure, even when he clapped a hand on his shoulder and said goodbye.

Kurt hadnt said a word.

Puck makes himself a cup of coffee as Kurt picks out a movie. They relax into it a little while later, both sitting on Kurts bed. Puck is sleep rumpled and when he laughs low at one of Kevin Klines jokes, Kurt smiles.

Before the credits roll, theyre already talking and getting to know one another. Puck is also from Ohio, Kurt learns. He modeled when he was younger and was really into sports and had all these plans to become a physical therapist, but toward the end of his senior year of high school, his good friend Santana was murdered.

Her killer was never found, there were no leads, and Puck spent a lot of time doing his own investigation during the following months.

Even though her murderer was never apprehended, Puck discovered that he had a knack for investigating and decided to get into law enforcement instead.

Puck gets very quite for a moment and then he smiles. "You want to pick out another?" he asks, gesturing to the DVDs. Kurt nods, and then they settle back to watch Jennifers Body.

Its comfortable for a while; theyre enjoying the movie and everything seems fine

But suddenly, things start to get weird.

Kurt is getting tired, no longer able to hold back a yawn. The movie is almost over and Puck is still sitting next to him, closer now, and he is more relaxed then Kurt has ever seen him.

His lips are soft and warm and his breath smells sweet like coffee and sugar.

When he leans in closer, his head falls against Kurts shoulder and his eyelids flutter closed - mouth sliding against Kurts neck. The sensation sends a shiver throughout his entire body, but he doesnt move away.

This is highly unprofessional, and Kurt wonders what happened between this morning and now.

Puck is drunk, he thinks. He has to be, but his breath doesnt smell like alcohol and his touch is tender, almost lazy, and Kurt cannot bring himself to protest. He has never been very good at saying no at least, not to someone he genuinely likes.

Uncomfortable.

The more Puck feels him up, the more annoyed he gets. This man is supposed to be protecting him, not groping him. It doesnt make a lick of since, and Kurt shakes his head, worried.

I want to kiss you so bad.

Puck moves again, curling his fingers into the fabric of Kurts shirt. He opens his mouth and kisses up Kurts neck, and Kurt gasps.

It feels good, really good, but the sound seems to awaken some rational part of Pucks brain and his eyes go impossibly wide before he slips off the bed.

He looks spooked as he quickly moves across the room, distancing himself the best he can.

"Shit, Kurt - Im sorry," he breathes. "I dont know what the fuck is wrong with me. That was way out of line. I shouldnt have"

"Have you been drinking?" Kurt implores, feeling a bit like an ass when he sees Puck frown.

"No. God, no. I must just be sleep deprived, shit! I was up all night going over the case. Im sorry, Kurt, after everything, you didnt need me coming on to you like that. Tom warned me to. I just, I really like you and Im sorry."

Taking a deep breath, "I'm- its okay. Why dont we just" Kurt motions to the movie playing, and sighs. "Lets just watch the movie, okay? We can talk about this tomorrow."

Puck nods in agreement, pointedly moving to the other bed. He sits down on the edge closest to the door and has trouble making eye contact the rest of the night.

He doesnt relax until well into the third movie, and even then, Pucks body is still slightly tense and he spends the entire movie with his brow knit tight and a small frown playing upon his lips.

:::

Kurt must have nodded off at some point, because when he wakes up, its almost light outside and Puck is sitting at the table with Finn.

Kurt gets up and stretches before going to use the restroom. He feels sluggish and his body aches. He doesnt lie back down, though. Instead, he walks to the table and stands beside Puck. He can still feel Pucks mouth against his neck, and he pushes the feeling aside.

"Why didnt you wake me up?" He asks, and Puck shrugs.

"You looked tired. I didnt want to disturb you."

There are several photos set out and Puck is hastily trying to gather them together. When he sits down, without thinking, Kurt moves to help. Its a mistake. Finn snatches the photo from his hand and hands it to Puck.

Kurt stares, unable to shake the image of the young man. "That was one of his victims? The guy who, my apartment, Dave" he shivers.

"I received a call about twenty minutes ago, they have an ID, the man who " Puck pauses, looking sympathetically at Kurt. "His name is Tosh Walker. Ferris is working on getting a warrant to search his home right now. Youre gonna be fine. This will be over soon, Kurt. Youve got me and Finn, and were not going to let anything happen to you, okay?" He smiles reassuringly, and Kurt feels the fear in his gut start to uncoil.

Just before realization hits.

"Wait," he chokes, "Walker?" his voice is barely a whisper. Wide-eyed, when Puck nods, Kurt feels nauseous.

"Kurt, whats wrong?" Finn asks, and Kurt shakes his head.

He knows that name.

Kurt barely makes it to the bathroom in time before he is sick.

Tears paint his cheeks, memories flood, and he can feel rough hands all over his body; bruising... Its too much.

Puck is standing in the doorway, and when he finally sits up, Puck steps inside.

"Are you okay?"

Kurts heart is beating fiercely and he closes eyes, trying to will his body to relax. He reaches up and flushes the toilet.

"Eli, Eli Walker, in Ohio. Hes the one who, the reason I wouldnt" Kurt shakes his head, and then slowly, he opens his eyes. Puck is staring at him intently.

"I dont understand, Kurt. I need you to tell me what happened, okay. Whos Eli?"

"Puck," Finn says. His voice sounds guarded. He whispers something into his partners ear and Pucks eyes widen. Kurt falls back on his feet, back resting against the wall. Puck hands him a towel.

Kneeling down, "This is important," he says. "Get yourself cleaned up. Then I need you to tell us exactly what happened, okay?"

He pats Kurts knee, and Kurt nods.

"Yeah," he breathes, chest aching.

Puck helps him up, then moves to the door, waiting. Kurt rinses his mouth out with toothpaste and water and then splashes some water on his face before shutting off the light and sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He looks to Puck, whose eyes are patient, and then to Finn, who is waiting with a pad and paper, his eyes bright and expecting.

Kurt exhales sharply.

"When I was seventeen, I was hanging out at the mall with some friends. I, um- I had to use the little boy's room and this guy, I mean Eli, he followed me inside. I didnt think anything of it. He worked at the skate shop. Id seen him around and he seemed nice enoughbut then, when I went to leave, he- he attacked me.

He shakes his head.

"He um he pushed me up against the wall, tore off my glasses and started kissing me. I couldnt stop him. I shouldve been able to stop him, to do something but he was so much bigger, and"

Chewing on his lower lip, Kurt peers up nervously at Puck through hooded lashes. "My friend Mercedes got a hold of a bottle of Malibu and I drank some. I was too disoriented. My mind couldnt catch up with what was happening. I was so young and stupid, and even when he" trailing off, unable to finish the story. Kurt stares down at his hands.

His voice is small when he continues almost a minute later

"I told him to stop, but he wouldnt. I wasnt strong enough, and he must have slid the lock shut because nobody tried to come in. There was some concert going on the second floor and I could hear the bass booming inside of the bathroom, people cheering he knocked my head into the wall and eventually, I just, I stopped screaming."

"You reported him," Finn confirms, and Kurt nods.

"Mercedes did. She found me and I told her what happened. She told the cops, and Eli was questioned but it, it didnt stick. There was some guy who worked at the skate shop who said he was working with Eli all day" Puck frowns and Kurt licks his dry lips, taking a shaky breath when Puck leans down and sets a warm hand on his shoulder.

"The mall was installing new security cameras in that section. I was so scared and they wanted to perform all these tests at the hospital but- but I refused. I couldnt, and there was nothing to prove that it was Eli. "

"What happened to him?" Puck asks, kneeling down in front of him.

"I- I dont know. We um, my dad and I moved a few weeks later. He was terrified something else might happen to me. That he wouldnt be able to protect me, so we moved out of state, and..."

"Did Eli ever try to contact you? Did you ever see him again?" Kurt shakes his head no and Puck pulls out his cell phone.

"I should notify Schuester," he states flatly, punching in a phone number. He looks ill as he opens the motel room door and steps outside.

Finn moves closer and Kurt wipes his eyes, backing up on instinct. Finn sits down on the bed next to him and rubs a hand over his face, through his hair.

"You really dont know, do you?"

His voice is dry as bone; it isnt a question. His tone is startling though, and Kurt makes to move but his wrist is grabbed, surrounding fingers squeeze tightly and Pucks voice filters in, random words and names as he continues to report to his superior from the other side of the wall.

Kurt opens his mouth to yell. He isnt exactly sure what Finn is insinuating, but the implication is enough. He is a threat. A hand clamps down over his mouth, "if you yell or scream, try anything stupid, Ill kill him."

Finns lips touch his jaw, lightly nipping along his throat. The hand slides away from his mouth and down to his neck and his breath stutters against his skin. Hot and wet, Kurt closes his eyes, terrified.


	4. Part Four

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This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!

**The Waiting Game** / Part Four

"The coffee," he murmurs, finally understanding. Finn smiles against his skin, backing away just enough to look into Kurt's eyes.

"Noah looked a little guilty this morning. Did he try something?" Finn's smile is dark, and he shakes his head. "Dont worry, he wont touch you again."

There are too many unanswered questions, and Kurt opens his mouth again to ask, "why?" when the door clicks open. Finn moves away, and Pucks sigh fills up the room.

"Toshs body was discovered at the Days Inn, hanging from the ceiling fan. Theres no evidence of foul play, but something it just doesn't add up." He shuffles over to the kitchenette. "Schuester wants you to stay here just a little while longer. Im gonna go check out the Days Inn, see what I can find out. The room was rented under Eli's name, so, chances are, he isn't too far away. We'll find him."

He pours himself a cup of coffee. "Schusters sending over another car to keep an eye on things, but..."

Finn puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. Kurt ignores the warning.

"The coffees drugged!" he yells, standing. Something hard slams into the back of his head and he falls back into Finns arms. The gun is waved in front of his face, and one strong arm encircles his waist, pulling him in-

Finn growls, Dont even think about it!" And Puck lowers his weapon.

Kurt watches the exchange blearily, head spinning; it feels as if hes gonna be sick again. "Drop it!" Finn instructs, dragging the barrel of the gun along the side of Kurts face.

"Please," he whimpers, and Finn pulls him in closer to his chest. He hears Puck set down his gun, and Kurt can feel tears starting to burn the back of his eyes. This is the man who did all of those horrific things to all of those other men, to Dave, and here he is now. Hes going to and Puck.

"Oh God, Finn - please. You said, you said you wouldnt hurt me, remember. You said"

"Breathe, Kurt, its okay." Finns breath is warm against his ear, and Kurt shudders. "You still dont remember, do you?"

Kurt doesnt understand. He looks to Puck for help, but the Agent eyes are on Finn. Kurts heart sinks.

"I couldve taken you that night. I couldve had you but you were already so scared and I just, I thought if you got to know me better, if I could gain your trust, maybe... "

The gun runs lower, down his neck and chest, before sinking beneath his shirt and riding back up his skin.

If I wouldnt have heard you scream, he wouldve raped you. You know that right? He would have raped you and I couldnt let that happen. If he wouldve tried again, he couldve killed you, he couldve

Suspicion confirmed, You left him in my bed, Kurt rasps, body tensing even more. You thought that would bring us closer? That I would trust you after - how could you do something like that, how could you think

"He got off easy." Finn spits and Kurts vision blurs.

However, despite Finns venomous tone, he is surprisingly gentle with a brush of lips against Kurts shoulder blade and along his neck. His lips are moist and soft, and his free hand is sliding up Kurts shirt over his abdomen, caressing bare skin.

"You son of a bitch!" Puck seethes, Get your hands off him!

Puck moves forward, hands fisting at his sides.

The gun sneaks up under the -v- of Kurts shirt and is forced up roughly under his jaw.

"Another step and Ill kill him."

Kurts eyes dart up to Puck who is backing out of the kitchenette. He is frozen mid step and his arms are raised in compliance. His natural hazelish eyes are black with fury.

"Toss your cell on the ground and kick it over to me. "

Puck does as hes instructed, and Finn continues, "Good, Noah, so good. Now I want you to take out your handcuffs and cuff yourself to the cooler on that wall."

Puck bites the inside of his cheek stubbornly, and Kurt closes his eyes as the gun is thrust up again, hard.

A few seconds pass and then he hears the cuffs click shut. Kurt opens his eyes and searches the room helplessly. There has got to be something, anything, he can use as a weapon

Terrified -

Finn removes the gun and pushes him down on the bed. Blanketing him with his body, hard and sturdy, he leans down to kiss Kurt, who turns his face away. Breathing heavily, he stares over at Puck, and Finn growls.

"If you could just look at me, like you look at him, this wouldnt be happening. Fuck! I dont want to hurt you Kurt.

Kurt stares helplessly at Puck.

His face twisted in anguish.

Goddamnit! Look at me! "

Kurt shakes his head. He feels ill; his stomach lurches violently as Finn yanks off his shirt, then unbuttons and unzips his pants.

Kurt tries to fight, struggling in earnest, but Finn has the advantage, and after a few minutes of blocking feeble punches, hes had enough.

"I didnt want it to be like this, Kurt. I dont want to hurt you, please. If you wouldve just kept your trap shut, we could have done this without an audience. Now, if you cant fucking comply, Im gonna have to kill him."

"No!" Kurt yells, a little too quickly. His body is starting to tremble beneath Finns and he swallows hard.

Finn licks his lips and leans down again.

"No?"

Big brown eyes stare into his and Kurt leans up, pressing their lips together, handing over his soul. Finn doesnt kiss him back right away. He makes him work for it...

Its only been a few days, but Kurt has grown attached to Puck. If anything were to happen to him, if Finn were to defile him in any way, it would be Kurts fault and he could never live with himself it that were to happen.

Pucks rough voice echoes throughout the room. Cursing, his tone is murderous and Finn is smiling now against his lips.

"Did Noah tell you we used to walk by the Coffee Bean everyday?"

Kurt shakes his head no. He doesnt like where this is going.

"We did. We never actually went in, what with the Starbucks right across the street, but Noah would always park right in front of your shop and peak in at you through the window. Hed never admit to it, but I think he has a bit of a crush on you. Thats how I first saw you"

Finn leans down and kisses him again. A quick brush of lips, and then he is speaking right up against his mouth. His breath, warm and smoky, his words slightly muffled, Finn confesses, "Even when we were together, he didnt think I noticed. Not that I really cared. Youre mine, Kurt. Youve always been mine. Since the moment I first laid eyes on you. For a while, I was content just being close, fucking around with my bestfriend. But thats all it ever was"

He sighs, and looks to Puck. "You can thank Noah, here, for renewing my interest in you. For making me realize just how much I need you. I finally got sick of him fucking everything with a pulse and decided I needed someone more, well you."

Finn kisses him again, this time rough and hungry as his hands push down Kurts pants and Kurt cant do it. He cant just lay back and let this happen, not again.

His fist connects with Finns cheek. It takes them both by surprise and Kurt hits him again and again, scooting up on the bed. Finn grabs a fist full of his hair and punches him hard in the stomach. It steals his wind and Kurt cannot breathe, blood is dripping onto his face. He realizes after a moment that its Finns.

Then he spots the gun, and cool metal slams against his forehead and he falls back.

Kurts vision blurs and he can feel Finns hands all over his body. Fingertips dig into his hips and his legs are pushed up and held. He stares up into dark angry eyes and shakes his head. Hes starting to mumble, beg, but he isnt even sure what hes saying, not really. And it doesnt matter; Finn isnt listening.

Hes unbuttoning his own pants and dragging the zipper down. Kurt cant watch anymore; he can hear Pucks voice in the background, loud and threatening, but he sounds too far away, and Kurt realizes that Puck is just as helpless as he is.

God only knows what Finn will do to Puck once hes finished with him.

Kurt can feel tears stinging the back of his eyelids, and he clinches his jaw shut tight. Theres the crinkle of foil and then Finn is hard against him, ready to push inside, no preparation, no kindness

"Stop!" Puck yells, and Kurts eyes snap open just as Puck tackles Finn to the ground. Kurt sits up, his head is pounding. He looks to the scene and then looks around for the gun. Its not on the bed anymore, and Kurts eyes go wide when he realizes that Finn has it clutched tightly in one hand.

Kurt calls out a warning to Puck, and Puck grabs Finns arm, but a second later the gun goes off with a loud bang.

Both Finn and Pucks eyes widen in horror. Then Finn looks back to Puck and cold-cocks him, square in the jaw.

Kurt's head falls back against the pillows, blood drooling down the side of his face and into his ear. He cant hear anything. The rooms gone quiet, still. Finn is running out the door, almost in slow motion, and Puck starts to run after him but stops, turning heal and rushing over to the bed.

He covers Kurt up with the sheet, hands shaking as he searches for his cell phone on the ground and dials 911. Hes babbling, but Kurt cant hear a word of it.

Puck's eyes are bright and watery, and there is blood smeared all over his hands and shirt.

He glances at the door a few times before looking back to Kurt. He squeezes his hand in his own and smiles softly, but there is worry in his eyes.

The room is still, quiet, and Kurt's eyelids slide shut. He knows that he should try to stay awake, Puck is telling him to stay awake but he cant help it. Hes done fighting. Puck is here, by his side, and hes okay.

He's safe.

That's all that matters.


	5. Part Five

__

This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!

**The Waiting Game** / Part Five

Kurt hears a little girl crying in the room across the hall and he turns up the TV. Heart-heavy, eventually, someone pushes his door shut and he breathes a shaky sigh of relief. The cool air is prickling his skin and though he is tempted to ask the RA for another blanket - he keeps his mouth shut, feeling like a big enough burden as is.

Puck has only visited him a handful of times.

Agent Hudson is still a very real threat and for whatever reason, Puck can no longer look him in the eyes. Kurt knows that Agent Puckerman was only spending time with him to protect him. It was a job. Its not like theyre bestfriends or close, but he thought over the last few days, that maybe, something had changed between them-

He was wrong.

During his last visit, Puck had stood awkwardly, shuffling his feet. The tone of his voice was cold, seemingly emotionless and he hadnt even stayed a full five minutes. It made Kurt feel even more vulnerable, which is something he really cant stand.

He is scared, terrified, all of the time now.

Everything that has happened is weighing heavy, and its too much.

He is not going to continue to spend all day sitting in a hospital bed eating god-awful cuisine. The smell of disinfectant is making him sick. He can't take the next however long until Dr. "Dick" Fabray says he is fit to be released.

No -

Kurt has had enough.

He pulls the IV from his arm and stands on shaky legs. Reaching up, he slides the bandage from his head and winces when the gauzy fabric pulls against his stitches.

Taking his glasses from the bedside table, he puts them on quickly before going over to the small cupboard/closet and fetching his bag and clothes. Chewing on his lower lip to distract from the pain, he steps into the bathroom to get dressed - It hurts like hell to move but he continues, pushing through the pain.

Desperate.

Outside, just beyond the door, Agent Lopez is sipping burnt coffee and flipping through a fashion magazine. She has yet to notice any change.

Kurt looks to the door, and then the window, hefting his bag up onto his shoulder. He utters a quick prayer and quietly walks to the glass.

:::

Rachel finishes speaking, and Kurt pushes the paid receiver back up against his ear. She sounds honestly worried about him and Kurt knows he has made the right decision in calling her.

"Im okay. Im just- Im outside the Vons on 5th Avenue, can you come get me?"

"You cant be serious. You know its almost lunchtime, the busiest time of day and because of you, Im short on... Oh God, did you hear about Dave? This really cute officer stopped by the other day, and..."

Kurt shifts, looking around the busy parking lot.

He tries to ignore the pitying looks.

"Yeah, I heard," he cuts her off. "Look, Rach- I know I screwed things up for you but if you could just come pick me up, I will explain everything okay. I really need your help..."

There is a momentary pause, and then Rachel heaves a sigh.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be there in twenty."

"Thank you."

"You owe me big for this."

Kurt hangs up the phone, clutching his bag at his side. He sits down on the curb to wait. However, after a few minutes, it feels like everyone is staring at him -

It makes him feel self-conscience. Bare. Like everyone knows what happened to him, and they are judging him because of it.

When he was dressing, he had looked into the mirror at the hospital and had barely recognized himself.

There is a four-inch long strip of hair missing from his head. It is about an inch and a half wide and there are twenty-six ugly black stitches running across the base of his skull, just above his left ear.

He has some light bruising on his face that is the color of rotting fruit and he has lost almost 8 pounds in the last week.

He's lucky to be alive.

"Sweetie," A hand touches his shoulder and Kurt flinches back, opening his eyes. There is a small, white-haired, elderly woman hovering above him. She is holding out a can of diet soda and a five-dollar bill. She smiles softly, when he looks up into her concerned blue eyes.

"Take these," she says, leaning in closer. Kurt eyes the soda and money, and swallows uncomfortably. "Thank you, but Im okay."

She looks him up and down, unconvinced. "You don't look okay. Come on boy take 'em. If you dont I'll be worrying about you all day."

After a moment, Kurt takes the soda and the money, "Thank you," he repeats, and she nods.

Her smile brightening, "You take care of yourself now."

Kurt nods his head shyly, watching her walk away. She disappears within the maze of cars and Kurt opens the soda. He takes a large gulp and settling back, he closes his eyes - It's hot and sultry, and he can feel the sun burning his skin as the minutes tick by.

Rachel shows up five minutes later, yelling for him to "hurry the f-up and get in the car" because she has at be back to work.

:::

The car ride to Rachels apartment is surprisingly quiet.

Every few minutes she glances over at him with wide doe eyes and a quivering bottom lip before looking back to the road. "What happened to you Kurt?" she finally works up the nerve to ask, and Kurt looks down at his hands, clutching them in his lap.

"I-I was" he starts, unsure of how to explain.

Rachel reaches across and grabs one of his hands.

Holding on tight, "It's okay," she assures, "You don't have to tell me right now, we can talk tonight."

They don't really speak again until he is tucked safely away in her apartment. Once there, she makes him promise to tell her everything when she gets home from work.

She gives him a soft kiss on the cheek, and then she is gone.

Kurt is alone, again.

:::

The phone rings and he sits up, wiping the drool off his mouth. The answering machine clicks on after a moment and its Rachel. She sounds anxious.

"Kurt, please pick up! Look there's an officer, no agent here. He says you weren't supposed to leave the hospital, there's someone after you? He sounds really worried. Kurt, I know youre probably not feeling well, but pick up the damn phone!"

Kurt pictures her stomping her little size 7 heal and winces, picking up the phone. "What's his name?"

"Puckerman, I think. He's not the same one who was in here before but he looks, I dont even know how to describe it. He just... he looks really worried for you and I think you should talk to him-please Kurt."

It's the _please_ that does him in. Kurt closes his eyes and sucks in his lower lip. He should have known this would happen. "I- um, okay." he says, feeling unsure.

"Okay?"

Kurt hesitates for a moment.

Exhaling a shaky breath, "Yes, I-I'll talk to him."

"Good. Oh, and Kurt, I'm sort seeing someone. Well, that agent who came in to tell me about Dave... we sort of hit it off. Anyway, he forgot his watch at my place the other night and he called a few minutes ago to ask if he could stop by. I told him he could, so"

"He's coming here?" Kurt's breath catches, and he sits back down on the couch.

"Yeah, he'll probably be there in like five minutes, I was actually just getting ready to call you when Agent Puckerman showed up. I hope thats okay. Finn's a great guy Kurt, well- you'll see. Ill tell you more about him when I get home. Anyway, yeah- Agent Puckerman really wants to speak with you, so, I'll see you, kay?"

It feels like all of the air has been sucked from the room. Kurt opens his mouth but barely a sound comes out, just a small croak and the phone is slipping from his hand.


	6. Part Six

__

This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction! Wonderful beta Lezi :)

Thank you for the comments, alerts, and favorites!

**The Waiting Game** / Part Six

While Kurt knows that he should do something-_anything_ to prevent what is coming, his mind is racing and wavering, refusing to cooperate, and all he can manage to do is rock back and forth. He feels strong arms encircling his waist from behind, a phantom hug, and he closes his eyes as he blinks back tears. Kurt desperately wants to go back to sleep, to disappear, but there's a little voice telling him to hold on; the voice is soothing, familiar, and…

After a few moments, Kurt realizes who it is. "Puck?"

"Yeah, Kurt-It's me. Can you pick up the phone?" His voice is far away, faint.

Kurt's eyes pop open, and he swallows as he stretches for the phone. It's so close-he can almost reach it, just a little farther…

A sound comes from his right: the door handle jiggles and Kurt scuttles back on the couch, away from the phone. There is a light scratching noise, a faint clicking. The door handle moves, rotating, and Kurt swallows hard.

"He-He's here," Kurt gasps, desperately trying not to panic.

He can barely hear Puck's voice say, "I'm on my way, ten minutes. Hang tight, okay? I'll be there…"

The assurance does little to quell Kurt's nerves, but he takes what he can get.

Looking for some kind of escape, Kurt stands, getting up so fast his knees wobble. His vision beginning to blur. Light-headed, he grabs onto the back of the couch and takes a deep breath, pushing up his glasses and licking his lips. After a moment, his vision clears, and somehow, on shaky legs, he manages to walk the distance to Rachel's bedroom.

Kurt's heart skips a beat. He slams a hand over his mouth, terrified and trying not to make a sound, when...

"Kurt?"

Finn's voice is soft, almost worried and Kurt automatically inches backwards. His sock-clad feet hit the wall and he bites into the flesh of his palm to keep him from yelping.

"Kurt, come on, I just want to see you. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you-I just... I need to make sure you're okay. _Please._ I have to see you one last time, and then I promise I will leave you alone, please… Kurt?"

Footsteps echo throughout the house, creaking the floorboards. They're steadily getting closer and closer to where Kurt's hiding. He bites down harder as hot tears begin to spill down his face. When he opens his eyes next, he sees Finn's Converse pause at the bedroom's entrance.

"I know you're in here."

It hurts for him to breath. It's too late, he thinks. No matter what Finn does, he's going away for a _very_ long time. The man has absolutely nothing to loose. Kurt shivers, swallowing hard, he can feel a steady stream of tears painting his cheeks. He can't hold back any longer, he _has_ to breathe.

The moment he gasps in a breath, a cry erupts before a hand brushes his cheek. Kurt starts, slamming his head into the wooden frame. Black dots float before his vision and an overwhelming bout of nausea curdles his stomach.

"Breathe," Finn says, reaching in to grab his arms. A moment later, Kurt finds himself sitting on the bed with his head forced between his legs. Finn rubs circles on his lower back and instructs him to "breathe" over and over again. In any other situation it might have been soothing.

"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone?" It comes out choked and desperate. When the hand on his back stills. Kurt bites the inside of his cheek and sits up. "Please, go. Please, just… leave." He looks at the door.

... It's wide-open.

Kurt doesn't run.

"I'm really sorry about this-" Kurt's turns, brow furrowing, and before he knows what's happening, Finn cuffs him around the neck. And pulls him close. "But you're right, we _do_ need to go." Kurt reaches up to claw at the constricting arm wrapped around him, his eye's huge. Kurt's mouth works as he tries to scream, but he can barely speak, much less cry for help.

Finn tightens his grip until Kurt's last breaths are choked out of him. Sweet nothings are whispered into Kurt's ear until his eyes slip shut.

:::

When Kurt wakes up and he finds himself alone in a car, panic instantly makes his head hammer in sync with his heart. His arm is strewn ackwardly across his chest and it hurts. His wrist is handcuffed to the door, and Kurt gives his arms a few experimental tugs. No matter how hard he pulls and yanks against the metal, the pain worsens-his wrist doesn't jerk free. Kurt huffs in annoyance.

The radio is playing, low and crackly-it's some old rock melody that Kurt vaguely recognizes from years back, working summer's in his father's garage. It's oddly comforting, but thinking of his dad makes Kurt's chest ache.

He's alone and it's dark outside, well into the middle of the night. He blinks and he realises, with some confusion, there is absolutely no traffic. Kurt reaches a hand up to his throat. It feels sore and raw, and just the thought of more bodily damage, more of _this_, brings fat tears to his eyes, blurring his vision.

Kurt's never felt fear for this long in his life.

Finn isn't around and the key is not in the ignition. Kurt looks around, quickly realising that they've stopped at an empty gas station. The car is tucked away in the shadows in the parking lot. He catches sight of Finn in the rearview mirror. The man is standing inside the gas stop's convenience store, paying at the register. Kurt takes a deep, stuttering breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He sniffles loudly, feeling all kinds of pathetic as he rubs his face into his shoulder of his shirt.

A few minutes later, the driver's side clicks open and Finn slides in. He has two grocery bags full of food and drinks. The thought of food makes Kurt's stomach growl. He groans in humiliation, but Finn doesn't notice as he dumps the bags in the backseat and turns to him.

He takes Kurt's face in his large hands, and Kurt's eyes fall shut. he swallows, Trying to flinch away when Finn's lips touch his. Kurt's head is firmly held in place, and Finn's warm tongue darts out to tease his lower lip. His breath smells sickeningly sweet like spearmint gum and nicotine. Kurt's stomach churns. He tries to back away, and Finn's grip eases and after one last kiss (this time sweet and chaste), he mercifully lets go.

"I know you don't trust me," Finn licks his lips, "And that's okay, I get it. But we've got a lotta time now, and-and I need you to know that I won't hurt you, Kurt. So long as you don't push me…" He trails off and sighs. "I just want to be with you."

It's a free pass, Kurt realizes, a way to shift the blame, should Finn happen to lash out again. Kurt doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. He's too afraid of saying the wrong thing (and what might happen if he does). So instead, he slightly turns back to the window. He pretends to ignore Finn's mewl of disappointment and instead concentrates on the soft pitter-patter of rain that is now falling.

It suits Kurt's mood. He settles back again, flexing his hand to help ease the circulation in his aching wrist. A bottle of water, a Tiger bar and a bag of Chex mix are set in his lap. Kurt's stomach rumbles again.

Even as he rips open the power bar, he doesn't say a word. Begging is useless: Finn doesn't listen and it, only seems to irritate him more each and every time.

But something is bothering him, and while he knows better, that it will only upset the agent sitting next to him, Kurt can't help but ask, "What happened to Puck?"

Finn's smile is ugly as he says, "He showed up just after you passed out." He pauses for suspense, and Kurt holds his breath. "I shot him. Don't worry, Kurt... He won't be bothering us again." The vehicle starts and Finn turns up the volume on the radio as they pull back onto the empty road.

Kurt stares out the window, unaware that he is trembling because all he feels is disturbing numbness. He takes a small bite of the power bar and tries his best not to react.

:::

They drive right through Fresno, and Kurt watches the businesses and houses disappear one by one as Finn takes them further north, up into the mountains. They the small dingy town that marks the center of California and keep going. As they drive further into the hills, the houses begin to look unkempt.

There are a few newer houses, but there's more chipped paint and rotted porches. Overgrown shrubs eat up lawns, and abandoned cars are parked front of quant houses, that, once upon a time, might have been considered the most beautiful on the block.

Kurt's heart aches.

It is raining a lot heavier now, and the wind is whipping wildly and rustling tree branches causing their car to sway a little to the side, every now and then.

Kurt wants to ask where they are going, to demand Finn stop the car but when he opens his mouth, he finds himself suddenly paralyzed. He can't move or speak-a helpless cry erupts from the back of his throat and Finn glances over at him.

"You okay?" He asks. Kurt shakes his head 'no' because it doesn't matter where they are going or what'll happen when they get there. He has no choice in the matter. A hand drops down on his thigh and Kurt can't contain his laugh. Kurt soon finds himself in full-blown hysterics.

Finn pulls off on the side of the road, all while Kurt watches him as closely as he can, even as he madly giggles. The hand on his thigh flexes-Finn's eyes are heavy upon him, his expression weary. he looks at Kurt like he's a time bomb, ready to explode.

Just a suddenly as it began, his laughter turns into something worse. Kurt pulls off his glasses even as he heaves ugly, messy sobs, and doesn't struggle when strong arms wrap around him. He's just so overwhelmed, desperate for a kind touch. Kurt cries himself to sleep in Finn's arms as the car idles on the shoulder of some unknown road.

When he wakes up, Kurt finds himself laying flat on a large bed. It looks more like someone's home instead of a motel. Kurt looks down at himself-he's been stripped down to a clean pair of boxers and nothing more; one of his wrists is handcuffed to a sleeping Finn's.

Thunder cracks above them, and each boom of thunder seems closer then the next. Kurt looks around as he reaches to the nightstand with his free of hand, grabbing a bottle of water. As he sips he contemplates what little options he has. Each one seems just as bleak as the next.

:::

/TBC


End file.
